The Jackson Five
by ZebbieCullen
Summary: Five times Daniel and Janet kissed. DanJan


_A/N: I seem to be suffering from a case of writers block in the Stargate universe, so this probably isn't my best work, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Anything you __recognise_, I don't own. Enjoy, and please review.

#1

Dr Janet Frasier gripped the branch as tightly as she could, digging her nails into it. It was the only thing preventing her from falling several hundred feet to her death. Her arm was beginning to ache at supporting her weight, beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, and she tried desperately hard not to look down. Ever since she was a child she had feared heights. She couldn't even look at a roller coaster, let alone go near one. She tried to find a dent in the rock to support her feet, but found it was all smooth.

She could feel her hand slipping with every slow second that passed. She screamed in the hope that someone would find her before it was to late. Her heart was beating so hard and so fast in her chest that she couldn't hear herself think, not that she'd probably like the thoughts much anyway. She tried to take deep breaths, but found that it was no good.

She heard the branch beginning to snap under her weight, panic rising inside of her. She screamed one final time before squeezing her eyes shut, not wanting to watch the side of the cliff as she fell. The branch snapped…

…And she felt someone grab her by the wrist. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Daniel Jackson. He was leaning over the top of the cliff, his blue eyes never leaving her brown ones, and trying to pull her up, back to safety.

"Hold on," he said, trying to fill the silence between them.

"Hold on?" she asked in slight disbelief. "What else am I going to do?"

The corners of his mouth tugged into a small smile. "Well what do you expect me to say? How was your day?" he said with a hint of friendly sarcasm in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She turned her hand around to hold the back of his wrist and brought her other one up to hold the front of his hand. Daniel began to slowly to pull her up. Janet swung her leg over the rocks, giving herself the momentum to get back on solid ground. They both fell backwards; she landed on top of him.

She gripped onto Daniel's shirt and buried her head in his neck. "Thanks," she whispered, breathing heavily.

He wrapped an arm around her waist. "Your welcome," he said, wincing slightly. "You can let go of my hand you know."

"Oh, sorry," blushing, she released it from her grasp, which was surprisingly strong for someone of her size. "I _hate_ heights."

He held her tighter. "I've got you. Your safe."

He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her scent. She smelt of vanilla; he recognised it as the shampoo he brought for her last birthday. It made her hair seem as alive as she was. He said into her ear, "I promise I'll never let you fall," he then tilted her head up with his free hand and kissed her.

#2

Daniel Jackson sat at his office desk, looking over a mission report from the previous week. He tried to concentrate, but the words blurred in front of him on the page. He took his glasses off and rubbed at his tired eyes. He looked around the room until his baby blue orbs trailed to a photo on the side of the desk.

A picture of a woman with tanned white skin, long, dark hair, brown eyes and a wide, proud smile on her face. His wife.

Janet watched him from the doorway, arms folded across her chest. He looked tired. The dark circles around his eyes made him look years older than he actually was. The thin lines around his mouth made more visible by the single beam of light that shone from the lamp on his desk.

The room smelt of coffee, dust and the after shave he wore. She would always associate those things with him. "Hey?" she said, making herself known to him. "What are you doing?"

He looked up, snapping out of his train of thoughts. "Just thinking."

"About what?" she questioned. She knew him well enough to tell when something wasn't right or when something was bothering him.

He sighed and leant back in his chair. He ran a hand through his thick hair, making it stand up at odd angles. Silence stretched between them for a shot while before he spoke. "It's been another year."

Her soft eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Sha're," he simply said. "It's been another year since she died."

Janet felt her heartache. The woman didn't deserve what she got, and Daniel hadn't deserved to deal with the after match. They were both good people who had loved each other and just wanted a peaceful life. Except that nothing with the SGC was ever simple. It was a lesson they had all learnt long ago the hard way.

She crossed the room and rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Daniel."

"That's OK," he mumbled. Janet knew that he probably hadn't eaten in a while. The doctor in her said that she should try and convince him to go to the cafeteria and then go to bed, but she knew that he needed a friend more than a doctor.

"Do you want to be alone?" she asked.

He shook his head and covered her hand with his. "I've been alone for years."

She hesitantly wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him gently. She knew what it was like to loose someone you loved. She'd seen a lot of death in her career and knew that everyone dealt with loss in his or her own way. Major Carter buried herself in her work, Col O'Neill often pretended it didn't happen and Teal'c took it all in his stride. But Daniel was different. He wasn't military; he wasn't trained to deal with it the way the others in his team were. He was a civilian and shouldn't _have_ to deal with it.

"You'll never be alone," she promised, and then she kissed him.

#3

Daniel Jackson breathed heavily, wincing at the pain in his arms that were tied about his head. He felt the barrel of a gun poke into his back, the metal cold against the skin that was exposed through his ripped shirt. His face was wet with sweat and covered in dried blood from a wound on his forehead; right now, that was the least of his problems. He had to stall his captures until help arrived – just in the nick of time and nearly killing him in the process of course, but he had become accustom to that in the last few years.

"What are you doing here?" asked the man, pressing the barrel of the gun harder into Daniel's back. He winced as it came into contact with a large purple bruise.

"I told you already," Daniel breathed. "I'm from a team of explores. We're called SG-1, we're of the Tau'ri, from the planet Earth. We mean you no harm."

"If what you say is true, then were is the rest of your team?" the man snarled.

"They must have made it back to the gate – the ring of the Ancestors. They'll be back any minute with more men and weapons, like the one your pointing at me," he bluffed. The forest sounding the area was large, he doubted whether they had made it half way to the gate.

He was rendered unconscious by a zat gun and had no idea as to the condition of his friends. He could just hope that they were all OK.

"You lie."

Daniel shook his head, but instantly regretted it when it started to pound. He was pulled to his feet and shoved violently forward, nearly tripping over in the process. "I'm telling the –"

"Silence!"

Daniel wisely shut his mouth, pressing his dry lips tightly together. He saw the man raise the gun and aim it between his eyes. Out of instinct he squeezed them shut. He heard a shot go off and braced himself for the impact. But it never came.

He let out a breath he had been holding and opened his eyes just in time to see the man fall to the floor, a dark crimson stain on the back of his shirt. Standing behind him, was Janet Frasier. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in time with his. She dropped and the gun and Daniel was able to free his hands of their bonds.

"I killed him," she whispered.

"You did what you had to," he said, looking over her, pleased to see that she didn't appear to be injured. "What happened? Where are the others?"

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She activated her radio and alerted Col O'Neill to their position. The doctor in Janet switched on and she began checking Daniel over, babbling about the risks of infection if he didn't get treated.

He kissed her tenderly, more because he wanted to than because her talking was hurting his head. "Thanks."

#4

Janet Frasier downed the rest of her cold cup of coffee and switched the lamp at her office desk off. She picked up her laptop and reports and carried them under one arm. She locked her office and waved to the nurse on night duty.

The corridors were almost abandoned, barely lit by dull bulbs that needed to be replaced. Many people had gone home for the night; the only personal still around were the ones on the night shift. If she left now she would still have time to watch a movie with Cassie.

Something out of the corner of her eyes caught her attention as she walked towards the elevator. Another dull light coming from the bottom of a door. The door to Daniel Jackson's office. She frowned, wondering why the man continued to pay the rent for his apartment, as he was never there. He was also supposed to be on bed rest for the next week following a knife injury he had sustained whilst being chased by some angry locals on PX7-277.

Janet walked into his office without knocking and saw him sitting in the corner typing away at his laptop. He looked up at her and closed the screen.

"You're supposed to be in bed. Resting," she said in her best doctor voice.

"Oh, come on," he tried to reason. "It's just a stab wound, I'm fine," he tried to stand up and winced. Janet just raised her eyebrows.

"I'm just a little stiff," he realised he was beginning to sound like O'Neill and decided it was best to be quiet.

Janet looked at he watch. It looked like a movie with Cassie was out of the question. "Come on, bed," she ordered.

He pointed to the laptop on his desk. "I really have to get this done."

She took a step closer, shutting the door behind her. She walked up to fit and put her hands on his shoulder, being careful of his stitches. She gently pushed him against the wall and kissed him, effectively holding him in place. When she pulled away, she was breathless. "Bed. Now."

#5

Janet Frasier wiped at the fat, salty tears that were trailing down her pale cheeks. She refused to admit that he was gone, she wanted to stay in denial, but she knew that wasn't healthy. What she really wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep, but she still had work to do. Mission reports and medical reports for new supplies that they needed.

Daniel Jackson watched her shuffle a handful of papers from behind. He had his arms resting across his chest, ankles folded with a sad smile playing on his lips. He continued to watch her for a minute, but then reached out and touched her shoulder.

A white light flashed and Janet found the room looking slightly brighter than she remembered it.

"Hey," said Daniel.

She jumped and spun around, her brown eyes looking him up and down. There was no bloody hole in his chest where the bullet had hit him, or any evidence of any of the other injuries he had sustained whilst off-world. She had tried desperately hard to save him, but had failed. He had a slight glow surrounding him and was dressed in a navy blue uniform. He didn't have his glasses and his dark hair was sticking up in its usual manor.

"You ascended?" she breathed.

Daniel nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I ascended. And let me tell you, the Ancients are less than happy that I'm back, but they're letting me say goodbye."

She stood still, frozen to the spot. "How long?"

He shrugged. "A few minutes."

"Daniel, I…"

He held up his hand in the universals – well, global – sign for stop. "You don't have to say it."

She was glad, as she wasn't sure what she had been planning on saying. She just had to say _something_ to fill the silence between them.

"Can't you just descend?" she asked.

Daniel shook his head. "Not this time."

"Why not?"

He smiled. "Someone has to look after you guys."

She smiled back and looked at the floor, blinking away tears. "I'm sorry I couldn't –"

"Don't be," he interrupted and stepped towards her. "You tried. It's my fault really."

He tilted her head up to look at him, chocolate brown meeting electric blue. He pressed his lips to hers in a final goodbye before resting his forehead on hers. "Stay strong," he whispered against her lips. And then he was gone.


End file.
